


Closeness

by FestivalGrey



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Gay, Gay Sex, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Pokephilia, Trans Male Character, Transgender, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25310704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestivalGrey/pseuds/FestivalGrey
Summary: Shortly before his big tournament, Hop decides to camp out in the Wild Area with his good friend Jojo. He especially wonders just how Jojo and his Grimmsnarl manage to get such closeness on the battlefield.He finds out pretty quickly.Written for an anonymous reader!
Relationships: Ohlonge | Grimmsnarl/Original Male Character(s), Snorlax/Hop
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Closeness

Everyone in the Galar region knew about Grimmsnarl, if only by reputation. Big, powerful, bestial creatures, the Fairy/Dark pokemon were intimidating and ferocious in battle. Even the softest were ruthless pranksters with an impish streak a mile wide.

Jojo, however, was proud of his own Grimmsnarl, a true beast of a pokemon named Grendel. It was a fitting title; like his namesake, the apocryphal monster from old folklore and sagas, Grendel was _huge,_ towering over humans and even other Grimmsnarl. At just under seven and a half feet, the massive troll made even enemies with type advantage take pause, and that was ignoring the fact that he was even more feral looking than the average individual of his species, with more hair than was typical for Grimmsnarl, thick and coarse and midnight black; longer, more threatening and dangerous fangs; and even more emphasized musculature. Normal Grimmsnarl already looked ripped, but Grendel looked like nothing less than a bodybuilder.

But while the average trainer might have considered that Jojo would have trouble controlling such a mighty specimen, they had no idea how deep the bond between the two of them ran. Grendel wasn’t just Jojo’s ace in battle, he was his foremost companion—pokemon, human, or otherwise. The two of them could often be found enjoying each other’s company, laughing from good-natured pranks or from playful teasing. They were _always_ ragging on each other; in fact, one might even consider their interactions like a bromance.

The bond between them was tight indeed, and it helped Jojo develop a closer connection to Grendel which translated to increased output on the battlefield. And so it was that Jojo’s friend Hop one day asked about how they did it.

“Come on, mate, you gotta give me the secret!”

Kicking back with a laugh, Jojo met his friend’s eyes. “It shouldn’t be a secret that friendliness yields results on the battlefield! _Every_ trainer should know that, Hop!”

Sticking a sausage on a skewer to cook over their campfire, Hop rolled his eyes. “Come off it, Jojo—what you and Grendel got is next-level, don’t convince me otherwise! I treat my pokemon good, but we ain’t got _nothing_ like you lot!”

The two young men had both obtained their eighth badges and were camping together in a lonely part of the Wild Area. It would be their last moment of respite before the big tournament a few days hence. They would be rivals on the battle pitch; tonight, though, they were just two good friends enjoying one another’s company. They’d known each other almost since they were in diapers, and Hop had been the first to offer support when Jojo had expressed his desire to transition, sticking by his friend all the way. Even after they’d gone on this journey shortly after coming of age (with all the ups and downs that came from being rivals working towards the same goal) their friendship was stronger than ever.

Jojo leaned back, putting his hand behind his heads and smirking to himself. Hop scowled. Blast it all, but Jojo was hiding something from him—he _knew_ it! It was unlike his best mate to play coy with information like this.

“You gotta be willing to experiment!” Jojo said after a few minutes’ pause, jumping up and waving his hands animatedly to make emphasis. “Go down paths you wouldn’t have considered!”

Hop leaned back, the crackling of the fire washing over him. “And what’s that mean?”

Jojo shrugged. “Different for different trainers, I guess. Me and Grendel, we—ah, forget it.” He turned and, reaching into his knapsack, pulled out a bag of mix. “Curry? My treat.”

Curry, it turned out, would be easier to envision than to make. Grendel kept interfering with his species’ trademark penchant for mischief, doing things like “accidentally” misplacing the curry bag or using his hair to grab the ladle and stir the other direction.

Jojo didn’t seem to mind, though. “Fuck _off,_ mate!” he exclaimed, chucking his pokemon in the arm good-naturedly after yet another prank. Hop watched it all unfold with a smile on his face—but the uncertainty didn’t go away. He was close to Dubwool, to Snorlax, to the pokemon his brother had given him—every member of his team! He listened to them, fed them, practiced with them, even played with them; but despite it all, nothing he had was close to this natural chemistry between Jojo and Grendel. As his friend served up the curry—meaty, with a hint of sweetness from a few mixed berries—Hop reflected. _Maybe it’s nothing you can learn or force,_ he figured. _It’s gotta come natural._ In that case, no wonder Jojo was having such a hard time explaining it to him.

After dinner, Hop released his team and Jojo released his as well, and all their pokemon milled together good-naturedly, play-fighting and trying to sneak helpings of leftover curry. Afterwards, it was time to set up the tents.

As Hop started putting his up, he noticed some unusually hesitant behavior from Jojo, who was normally an exuberant ball of energy. Grendel was hovering behind him, looking excited about something. “Hey, Hop,” he said, shifting and looking a touch—embarrassed? “I’m gonna, uhhh—set my tent up down there.”

Hop followed his friend’s pointing finger to see a lonesome-looking ravine and raised an eyebrow. “You sure, mate?” he asked.

“Yeah! You can, I mean should, just, um—hang out here. No worries.”

Hop frowned. Something was going on—Jojo was acting weird. But the more he thought of it, the more he figured everything was fine. Jojo was a bit hesitant, but not fearful or upset. In fact, he almost seemed to be hiding a sense of excited anticipation. Whatever was happening, he seemed fine with it—so Hop saw no reason to work himself up. “Alright,” he replied. “We can meet up here in the morning.” And as Jojo and Grendel wandered off, Hop shook his head.

What should have been an uneventful night for Hop—one of his last before the big tourney—ended up being anything but. He was abruptly woken in the middle of the night from some unfamiliar noises—noises coming from the ravine where Jojo had set up camp.

Sticking his head out of his tent, wondering what was going on, Hop was jolted into awareness by a sharp, distant note—Jojo’s voice _,_ rising in what sounded like desperation! Quickly throwing on shoes and a jacket, Hop rushed down the ravine.

Jojo’s tent was situated a little bit further down, and the noise was coming from inside. The closer he got, the more uncertain Hop grew. That was definitely the sound of Jojo and Grendel. Were the two of them fighting? The closer he got (and the closer he listened) the more Hop began to blush. Those sounds… it sounded like…

Well.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that some people were pokephiles, that they slept with their pokemon. It was considered taboo even to think about, and Hop had never considered it before. _No, it couldn’t be,_ he said, dismissing the thought from his head. _Jojo and Grendel are just training or something._ And then a new thought alighted down into his head: what if whatever was going on in that tent was the secret behind their closeness?

Though he still felt a bit apprehensive at looking, now he _had_ to know. Tiptoeing up to the tent (and noticing that the screen door was partially unzippered) he peeked inside.

What he saw almost made him choke.

His friend Jojo was stripped naked, pinned to the floor of the tent, and getting _rawed_ by Grendel.

The titanic Dark-type was clutching one of his trainer’s legs to his body, holding it tight as his cock slammed in and out of him. Jojo was lying on his side, his back to the tent flap and unable to see Hop peeking in. His arms were splayed out across the canvas floor, shaking as they tried supporting him. “Fuck,” Jojo moaned as Grendel slammed into him with particular force. “ _Fuck! Grendel!_ I love it—harder, harder, whatever you want, just _fuck_ me!”

With a low guttural sound that might have been his stab at a sensual chuckle, Grendel obliged, sawing into him with even more fervor and vigor. The Grimmsnarl’s thick, powerful black hair was undulating, writhing around Jojo’s body and binding him tight—tendrils hewed close to his body, clutching dominantly around his thighs, his arms. One of the tendrils dipped down between Jojo’s legs, making Hop think that Grendel was stroking at his trainer’s pussy. Jojo shuddered at the touch only to whine as Grendel thrust in particularly hard.

“F-fuck,” Jojo moaned. “Grendel—oh—!”

With a rolling laugh, Grendel’s hair starting undulating, snaking its way up towards his trainer’s mouth—as Jojo’s lips continued to spill praise and pleas for his pokemon (and Hop realized that however confident Jojo acted normally, that his friend _definitely_ subbed when it came to Grendel), Grendel’s hair snaked up further and further, until—

“Mmmph! _Mrrrrrmmmmmph!_ ” The sound of Jojo being gagged filled the air, the trainer’s shocked sounds quickly devolving into moans as Grendel pleasured him.

Hop’s breath caught. He felt hot. Flushed. His cock was hard in his pants. Swallowing, almost embarrassed at what he was doing, he reached down to unzipper, shuddering at the feeling of his hand on his cock, stifling a moan as he gently stroked himself.

He never knew he was into this.

Once Jojo was good and bound, any attempt at verbiage completely stifled by Grendel, the big pokemon took charge. Seizing his trainer with his massive green claws, Grendel flipped Jojo over.

Hop choked back a start—Jojo was facing him now, and was going to see him! But the moment passed in a flash—thick, coarse hair was wrapped around Jojo’s face, blindfolding as well as gagging him. Jojo was none the wiser.

Grendel, though, turned his head to regard Hop with a toothy smirk. All three of them held there for a moment—Hop, caught peeking in, his cock hard in his hands; Grendel, domming his trainer and matching gazes with the interloper; and Jojo, wriggling and moaning from his pokemon’s attentions, ignorant all the while.

Then, still smirking, Grendel _really_ started hammering in.

Jojo’s muffled wails of pleasure coursed up into the air; Hop was almost unsure whether the tent could _contain_ so much noise. He started pumping himself as he watched in awe. Hop was pretty proud of his own size, but Grendel was incredible. The troll pokemon’s sheer hugeness was borderline _obscene,_ a mammoth size. He thundered into his trainer and Jojo let out a muffled squeal, perspiration beading on the young man’s brow as he flushed and trembled from sheer stimulation. Grendel’s pace was savage like the beast he was, unforgiving and dominant, and every rolling moan that squeaked its way past Jojo’s muffled lips spoke to how thoroughly he loved getting rutted by his own pokemon.

Even as Hop watched it all, breathing in short, staccato bursts as he tried to keep his arousal under control, he couldn’t help but think—the way that Jojo was willing to sub for his pokemon showed a real trust in there, a mutual connection. Was that trust the genesis of why the two worked so well together on the battlefield? Was it because the two of them were fucking?

Apparently unconcerned that Hop was watching—in fact, he seemed even to delight in it to an extent—Grendel enthusiastically slammed into his trainer’s cunt, spreading him open and making him quiver as he took Grendel’s massive hugeness.

With a sly sidewise glance at Hop, Grendel leaned over and began stroking his trainer’s hair, running his fingers through it. Jojo almost jumped at the touch, his voice high and desperate, and his reaction only intensified as Grendel traced his claws down the side of his neck, across his shoulders and down to his waist. The trailing touch of his wicked-looking claws was almost dangerous—but it was clear that Grendel, for all his menace, was just playing. Judging from Jojo’s appreciative moans from behind his gag, he didn’t exactly mind himself either. It was a curious interplay of threat and comfort—knowing his Grimmsnarl could have seriously hurt him at any moment, yet secure in the knowledge that he never would.

Upping the ante, Grendel glanced at the tent flap to make sure Hop was getting a view, then leaned in and trailed his long tongue along Jojo’s collarbone. The touch made the young man hiss in delight, a sound that caught when Grendel leaned up and left his fangs delicately resting on his shoulder. They held there for a moment, Grendel’s impossibly sharp maw almost—not quite, but _almost_ —threatening his trainer harm even as he kept pumping in and out of him. From the corner of his eyes, Grendel kept eyeing Hop as if to say _Enjoying the show?_

Hop was enjoying it _very_ much. By now he was vigorously pumping his own cock, holding his breath to make the lightheadedness complement the surging river of excitement that was blossoming out of his cock and into the rest of his body.

He was _close._ And the way Grendel was toying with his trainer, tracing his claws and fangs along him—that was not only hot, it was a sign of _incredible_ trust. For Jojo to be okay with this, for him to delight in it—as the still-stifled moans from him implied—showed just how in sync the two of them were. No _wonder_ they worked so well together on the battlefield.

Apparently having decided he’d had enough playing around, Grendel took matters into his own claws. Seizing his trainer, the massive Grimmsnarl reclined back, positioning Jojo so that the still-blindfolded young man was situated on his cock. Then, from his sitting position, Grendel _bucked,_ making Jojo squeal. He did it again, and again—over and over, his massive, incredible cock thundering in and out of the young man’s slit with abandon, the squelching sound almost obscene.

Jojo’s voice rose in pitch and intensity, and despite Grendel gagging him his voice was carrying far and high. Eventually, with a mischievous look on his face, Grendel decided it was time to let Jojo bare his desires to the world.

Withdrawing his hair from Jojo’s mouth (though still keeping him blindfolded and his limbs in check with the rest of it), Grendel gave the young man free reign to say whatever he wanted. And after gulping in a huge breath, Jojo did just that.

“ _PLEASE, GRENDEL!”_ he screamed, the sound so intense Hop wondered if he might not have heard it verbatim back at his tent. “I fucking love your cock, I _need_ your cock! More! More, please, I’ll do _anything!_ ”

Rumbling with delight, Grendel started bucking into his trainer harder, his cock hilting in him so thoroughly that his body shook with every thrust.

“Fuck me! Cum in me! _Claim_ me!” Jojo’s voice was piercing, raw with sheer arousal. “I need it, Grendel, cum in me, I don’t care, even _breed_ me if you want, just please! Give me your cum, I _need_ it!”

Hearing the sheer desperation behind Jojo’s begging was enough for Hop. He grunted, hunching over as he orgasmed. His cock spattered out sticky cum; he at least had enough self-control to aim away, cumming on the ground so he wouldn’t mess up his friend’s tent.

Not that it was going to be that clean to begin with. After a few more thorough bucks, Grendel slammed home, hilting in his trainer and roaring out with delight as he flooded Jojo’s pussy. The sudden fullness and the feeling of his pokemon’s cock pulsing in him was too much; Jojo came as well, his cunt clenching down as he sagged against his Grimmsnarl, voice ragged from the sense of it all.

His mouth dry from what he’d seen, ideas rolling over in his head and his orgasm slowly declining like a car rolling downhill, Hop decided he’d had enough voyeurism. Quietly zipping up, he stole back into the darkness, leaving Jojo and Grendel to cuddle and coo together in the afterglow.

The next morning, Hop was already up and tending a small fire when Jojo and Grendel decided to join him. Jojo wandered up with a slightly dazed look and a rolling gait that suggested just how thoroughly Grendel had fucked him last night.

“You sleep okay?” Jojo asked easily. Hop swallowed. So it seemed that Jojo hadn’t noticed after all—and that Grendel hadn’t indicated to his trainer what went down.

“Oh, you know,” he replied. “More or less.” Glancing over Jojo’s shoulder, Hop saw Grendel smirking at him. Yep, the Grimmsnarl knew _exactly_ what was going on.

They spent the rest of the day as normal, but in the back of his mind, Hop thought… and thought.

This _was_ the reason Grendel and Jojo were so close, he was sure of it. There was nothing closer than fucking your own pokemon! And the thing of it was… both Jojo and Grendel had seemed really, really into it. For someone who had been raised his entire life being taught to never even consider pokephilia, Hop was now having… thoughts.

If his pokemon was into it… and he wanted it… and the results were improvement on the battlefield… then what was the downside?

And deep down, almost afraid to admit it to himself, he had to note that he _had_ stared with interest at one member of his team in particular.

That night Jojo and Grendel had again walked down to the ravine. This time, Hop had no intention of going down there as well. He had his _own_ shenanigans to get up to.

Shaking from anticipation, almost worried the cramped tent wouldn’t hold the two of them, he released his Snorlax.

The big, burly beast appeared with a low growl, and Hop swallowed. There, sheathed between the pokemon’s legs, was a _very_ big member. Sometimes, in the late hours, he’d yanked himself at the thought of that cock in his mouth, in his ass…

Kneeling at about groin level, Hop looked up at his teammate. “H-hey,” he stumbled, his voice raw with anticipation. “I, uh… I mean, if you want to…”

Snorlax caught on immediately, and with a satisfied growl, it lumbered over, placed one paw on the back of his head, and maneuvered him close to its cock.

Spreading his mouth as wide as possible, Hop thought giddily that if everything went as he hoped, he’d be wincing as he walked onto the tournament pitch in a few days’ time.

**Author's Note:**

> Super glad you liked! Don't be afraid to follow me on Twitter c:
> 
> [Link's right here!](https://twitter.com/FestivalGrey)


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